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Phantom, Danny
The story you know from the very beginning.
…and from a slightly different point of view.
Chapter 9: The Powers
-Day 21-
"Sam!" The Danny was racing across the grass, panting heavily. "Hey, wait up!"
One of the humans up ahead paused and glanced over its shoulder. "Hey Danny."
"I've got the coolest thing to tell you," it said as it gasped for air. "Remember the accident I had in the lab?"
He sighed and settled back a bit in its mind. This was the agreement they'd come to that morning. The Danny wished to tell its friends about its new ghost abilities. It thought that maybe having other humans would help it learn. He didn't understand human thought processes well enough to refute the human's claim. So he'd – reluctantly – agreed that it could tell its friends that it had acquired ghost powers. Not about himself. Simply the abilities.
"The green eyed trick? I thought your dad said that energy was gone."
"It dissipated, yeah," The Danny said. "But not all the way."
The other human, the dark-skinned one, looked skeptical. "What do you mean?"
He poked at the human mind. Which one is this? he asked. He was going to make an attempt to learn the human names, even if naming things didn't make sense.
"Tucker," The Danny answered absently. "I mean, watch." It poked at him.
Lost in his study of the human's features – orange hat, darker skin, glasses – he'd almost missed his cue. He reached out and twisted The Danny's hand invisible.
Both humans' mouths dropped open. "Woah," the first human said. It had black, longer hair and odd blue-purple eyes. Its name had to be The Sam. "How did you do that?"
"Ghost powers," The Danny said. His mind curled with -Excitement.-
The Tucker scoffed. "Ghost powers?" But its sarcastic look faded as it poked at The Danny's invisible hand. "Um… I guess… But…"
"That's awesome," The Sam whispered. "Can you turn more that just your hand invisible?"
"Yes…" The Danny said slowly, its mind making clear that it did not wish to do so, "but it's kinda freaky-feeling."
He watched the other humans through Danny's eyes, doing his best to memorize them. If The Danny was going to follow through on its part of the promise to attempt to learn something ghost-ish, he would do his best to learn something the humans seemed to find necessary. He didn't understand their thing with names, but he figured he could accept it.
"Do your parents know?" one of them asked. It took a moment for him to remember its name. The Tucker.
The Danny shook its head, almost desperately. "No."
"Why not? Aren't they, like, leading ghost researchers or something?" The Sam asked. It grabbed The Danny's hand and he let it fade back into view. "Oh, that's cool."
"No, it's not," The Danny said. "And they'd be pissed! Don't you remember what happened when Uncle Alfred wandered around in their lab a few years ago and got zapped?"
"You're not your Uncle Alfred," The Sam said blandly. "There was something wrong with your Uncle Alfred."
What is this instance?
It was like the memory of it was shoved into his mind. A man – The Dad's brother – showing up at the door unexpectedly several years ago. The Danny's memories of its blank-eyed stare, and its fixation with the humans' basement lab. How it had stayed the night, and The Mom and The Dad had woken up in the middle of the night to find Uncle Alfred in the basement, supposedly sleep walking, horribly zapped by some invention or another. Uncle Alfred had spent several days in the hospital and, after The Mom's discovery that its computer files had been hacked into and its laboratory disrupted, was never allowed to return to the house.
He shivered, surprised by the memory, and tried to shove it away. But it felt like it was now lodged in his own mind. Do not do that again.
"My parents still talk about him," The Danny was saying.
The Tucker shook its head. "Didn't he hack into your parents computer files?"
"Like my parents care about that," The Danny said, waving its hand. "They won't even install a basic firewall on their computers. But mess with their inventions?"
"Dude, they're not going to disown you," The Tucker said.
"No, they'll just experiment on me – painlessly, sure, but they will. Look at me like I'm an unnatural freak for the rest of my life. Quietly shudder and ignore me until I can't take it anymore and more out and never come back." The Danny shook its head. "That's much better."
The Sam sighed. "You're overreacting."
The Danny shot it a frustrated look. "That's not the point. I don't need to tell my parents."
"Then what's the point?" it asked, blinking at it with those wide, blue-purple eyes.
There was something about its eyes. A sort of sparkle in them that he recognized from somewhere. A memory, perhaps. This is The Sam. Is it a 'she' or a 'he'?
He felt The Danny sigh. "She," it said, then hesitated, glancing at its friends. "See," it said, emphasizing the word, "I don't need to tell them. I can get control of it on my own."
"And you'd have ghost powers," The Tucker said. "Like a superhero."
He narrowed his eyes at the word Superhero. The Tucker had said it like it deserved capital letters and italics, much like School, only backwards. What was this thing?
"That sounds like a bad plan," The Sam said. It – she – shook her head.
The Danny sighed and shook its head. "I can go invisible, and out of phase, and I'm trying to learn to fly."
"Fly?" There was a strange note in The Sam's voice. It sounded like longing.
"Yeah," it said, grabbing hold of the thought and running with it. "Flying, Sam. Wouldn't that be awesome?"
You do not enjoy it when I go flying. You spend the entire time complaining.
He was ignored by The Danny. "Come on, Sam. I need your help. I wanna learn how to fly, and I need you to help me learn." It grabbed her hands. They were much smoother and softer than The Danny's. And her fingernails were purple, rather than peach-colored like The Danny's.
The Sam hesitated. Her face twitched into a frown. "Danny…" she sighed.
"Oh come on, Sam," The Tucker said, throwing its arm around The Danny's shoulders. "This'll be fun!"
"Oh yes," The Danny said. "Watching me fail over and over. Fun." Its shoulders drooped, but there was a smile still on its face.
"Alright," The Sam said after a long moment. "But let's find someplace a bit quieter to do this." She stuck her finger in The Danny's face. "And I want it on record that I don't agree with you about not telling your parents."
"Yeah, I got it," The Danny said.
The Sam nodded, crossing her arms on her chest. "Well, lead on then."
The Tucker knew exactly where to go. It lead them through a bunch of trees to a large rock in the middle of a small clearing. "The last remaining remnant of our town's glacial till," it said, gesturing at the large rock. It sighed dramatically. "The rest has been lost to technological advance and the need for flat, not-filled-with-giant-rocks land."
"Yes, so sad," The Danny said. "What's your plan?"
The Tucker pointed towards the top of the rock. It was perhaps ten feet up. "Jump."
"Yeah… no," The Danny muttered. "That sounds like a bad plan."
I think it sounds like a good plan.
"I think it sounds like a good plan," The Sam said at almost the exact same time.
The Danny glanced over at The Sam, startled. "Oh, you would all be against me."
"Yeah, all two of us," The Tucker said. "Climb. Show us what you got. Ten feet won't kill you."
"It could seriously hurt me," The Danny muttered as it walked to the side of the rock mostly buried in dirt and found a few handholds.
I will not let you be hurt by a fall.
"That's not reassuring," it mumbled, scrambling to the top of the rock. "How does this flying thing work?"
The same as invisibility, only not. You just fly.
"Helpful," it said darkly. -Dread- filled its mind as it peered over the edge. The two other humans peered back up at him. "I don't want to do this."
"Jump!" The Tucker cheered. It had a small device in its hand, pointed towards The Danny.
He pulled energy towards them, wrapping it around the human body. The Danny stiffened. "Fizzy," it hissed.
You don't weigh anything. There is no gravity to pull you downwards. You are powerful and light and filled with energy.
It closed its eyes, taking another shaky step towards the edge of the rock. "I feel…"
Take another step, he coached, you're not to the edge yet.
Slowly, The Danny edged further and further forwards. "How close-" it opened its eyes. It glanced down, only to notice it was hovering a dozen feet in the air.
You're fine.
It fell.
"Ow," it hissed as it hit the ground and rolled onto its back. "Frickin' ow. Whose plan was this again?"
"Dude," The Tucker said softly. "You were, like, two feet out in the air before you opened your eyes."
"I noticed," it said darkly. "That's because I was trusting the stupid little voice in my head that said I wasn't to the edge yet!"
It worked, did it not? You were flying.
Its eyes jerked open. -Surprise- flashed through it. "I was flying."
Yes, you were.
Blue-purple eyes and black hair appeared over them. The Sam had a rather large smile on her face. "Yeah, Danny, you were flying." The smile faded slightly. "Not very long, and you didn't land well, but I guess you could call that flying."
"It was more like hovering," The Tucker cut in.
You should try that again.
"I'm not going to try that again," The Danny said firmly. "Not today, anyways."
"That's too bad," The Tucker said, turning the little device it had in its hands around. It showed a short video of The Danny hovering in air before tumbling to the ground. "It'd make a good YouTube smashup."
"Don't you dare," The Danny said, reaching for the device.
He touched The Danny's hand with a bit of energy, twisting it out of phase just before it was able to grab the device. It flailed through The Tucker's hand and back to the ground. I wish to watch the video again.
"Oh, hell no," The Danny muttered, wriggling his fingers. "It feels like I have fizzy pop running under my skin."
Tell it to play the video again.
The Sam reached over and took the device, laughing a little as she rewound the clip and played it again. "I loved the look on your face," she said as she paused it just as The Danny realized it was floating. "Coyote meet Roadrunner."
"Knock it off, Sam," The Danny muttered, flexing its fingers and trying to rid itself of the energy still lingering there.
But he was watching The Sam, and the way the sunlight glittered on her black hair. He hadn't found a single human he liked in this world. They were disgusting, heavy things. But this human had something else about her. Something… almost supernatural.
.
.9.
.
-Day 22-
You need to knock it off with the 'The' before everyone's name.
He picked at the shoelaces, still not sure of how to tie them. "Is that not how humans show respect to each other?"
No.
He crossed the laces a few times, pretending to do what The Danny had shown him. "It is how ghosts show respect. The Council is a collection of the most powerful amongst us. We would be destroyed were we to call them simply 'Council'."
Give that to me. And no, humans don't do that. We have other titles, sometimes.
His hands started to move on their own. They went through a quick set of movements to get the laces tied. "What kind of title would be appropriate for The Mom?"
None. She's just Mom.
He flexed his fingers once the shoes were tied, getting them back under his own control. "That does not make sense."
Sam is just Sam. Tucker's just Tucker. And I'm just Danny. Not The Danny.
He sighed and stood up. "I will agree with that statement if you allow me to wear the white shirt today instead of this monstrosity." He picked at the splashy colors of blue and red swirled on the fabric.
It's not a debate, Ghost. It's just the way it is. Kind of like the fact that you can't wear the same shirt every day!
"I would if I were in my world." He grabbed the backpack beside the door and walked down the hallway. "How long must I do this?"
Two hours. Then I'll take over.
He narrowed his eyes and tromped down the steps, jumping the last few and landing lightly on his feet. "I will get to fly tonight, correct?"
That was the deal. It settled back in his mind. You want to fly, I want to sleep.
Hesitating at the foot of the stairs, he eyed the kitchen nervously. "I do not wish to eat breakfast with The Mom-"
Just Mom.
He pressed his lips together. "I do not wish to eat breakfast at all, much less with Mom and Dad." He struggled over the words. "There is no title of respect for them, even though you profess that they are older and wiser and more powerful than you?"
It shook its head. No. They're just my parents. And you have to eat breakfast. Remember how hungry I get when you didn't? Besides. I smell omelets. You'll like that.
"I do not like eating. It is unnatural."
No it's not. Try the omelets.
"Fine," he said, dropping the backpack next to the door and walking into the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, eying the humans. The Dad was easy to pick up – the largest one and the male of the group, now that he was starting to understand what the word 'male' meant. The other two he still got confused. "Which is Mom again?"
The taller one.
He flicked his eyes from one to the other – as one was sitting and the other standing, the comment wasn't helpful.
The one standing up, it continued after an exasperated moment. How come you can't tell them apart?
"Humans are hard to tell apart," he hissed as he stalked into the room to claim a chair. The Dad ate loudly, saliva glittering in its mouth when it chewed without closing its lips. He scooted his chair away from The Dad as far as he could, avoiding the human's wide bulk and jabbing elbow if nothing else.
When a plate was set in front of him, he glanced up at the human. "Thank you, Mom," he told it.
"You're welcome, Sweetie," it answered with a pleased smile. "Hear that, Jack? Someone knows their manners."
The Dad just continued to noisily eat its food.
'His', by the way. Not 'its'.
He pressed his lips together and picked up the fork, not wanting to answer but sending annoyed thoughts in the human mind's direction none-the-less. It seemed to get the point. The eggs were squelchy on the plate as he cut into them. He stuck it with the tines of the fork and brought it up to his nose to smell. It did not smell sweet like the pink cake had been. "Are you sure this is edible?" he murmured.
Mostly. Just eat it.
"I heard that," came a sour voice.
He glanced towards The Mom, who had just settled into a chair next to him. He sent it a small smile and stuck the bit of omelet into his mouth. Taste curled through his mind. He mushed it around with his tongue a moment, trying to decide if it was something he didn't mind the taste of.
Actually, oddly, it tasted familiar. Swallowing that bite, he took another, trying to remember where this taste had come from. "Mother made these for me," he whispered, startled as the memory stirred in the back of his mind.
As usual, with his own memories, it felt dusty and unused. It was being dragged back into his mind after over two centuries of being locked away. Dim, broken, and hazy, it was little more than a fleeting memory of sitting at a table, eating eggs, his feet unable to touch the ground.
He managed to eat almost half the omelet before his mind rebelled against the idea of eating any more. "I am finished."
"We're all glad to hear that," the other female human stated blandly. It shot him a glare.
He gazed back for a moment before asking the question in the front of his mind. "Who are you again?"
The human mind started to laugh. I can't believe you said that.
The female's eyes narrowed darkly. "You watch where you sleep, little brother."
"I do," he replied, slightly confused. "I am going to go to School. Have a good day, Mom and Dad." He pushed away from the table and left the kitchen, grabbing his backpack and hurrying out the front door. "May we fly to School?"
No. We need to meet Sam and Tucker.
He frowned slightly, but sighed and kept walking. "What is the other female's name again?"
Jazz. She's my sister.
"And what did she mean by the sleeping comment?"
It was a threat. Can you handle it from here?
He narrowed his eyes and turned around to look at the house. "Should I have threatened her back?"
No! Promise you'll go to school if I go to sleep.
"I do not enjoy School." He shook his head and left contemplating revenge on The Jazz for later. With even his limited experience with School, he knew he would be bored quite quickly and need something to occupy his mind. "But I will go."
The human mind sighed with relief and seemed to burrow down into his mind. By the time he'd reached the corner where he was to wait for The Sam and The Tucker, the human was fast asleep.
"Why am I following its orders?" he muttered, leaning against a strange blue metal bin. He looked around at the beautiful autumn day, taking in the colors and the feelings he would never be able to experience in the ghost zone. The way the green tree leaves swayed in the breeze. The way the flowers from the garden nearby exploded the air with scent. The soft bee that buzzed nearby. "I am not some pet in a cage that is required to follow the orders of my human master," he grumbled.
But he didn't move.
It didn't take more than a few minutes and The Sam came jogging around the corner. He grinned and raised a hand to wave at her. "Good morning-" he broke off before he could put in the 'The', "Sam."
"You're really awake for a Monday morning. Who dragged you out of bed today?" the human asked, yawning and stretching languorously. "Usually only Tucker's the one awake."
"I dragged myself out of bed," he responded slowly, wondering if it was the correct thing to say. "It is a beautiful day."
She smiled at him, hiking her backpack further up on her shoulder. "Yeah, you're obviously in a good mood."
"Shall we walk to school?"
An eyebrow arched and she looked around. "And not wait for Tucker? Any particular reason why you're ditching your best friend?"
He cursed silently. He'd forgotten about the male. "We can walk slowly," he suggested. "I am tired of standing still."
"M-kay…" she drawled. "Walk we shall do." She eyed him. "What's up with you?"
He flushed – an odd sensation of warmth that no ghost should have to suffer through – and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I am wearing the wrong shirt." She chuckled and he felt the flush on his face grow. Only, strangely, this time the sensation was almost pleasant.
"Yeah, you've worn that white shirt a lot lately," she said. "That's not really what I meant though."
She started to walk and he had to jog to catch up. "What is it you meant?"
"The way you talk. The way you move. The way you look at things, it's like you've never seen them before. There's just… something odd with you today."
He frowned slightly. He would have to try harder to emulate the human mind. "I am sorry."
She waved her hand, the purple fingernails glittering in the sunlight. "Nah, you don't have to apologize, Danny. It's just different from your usual 'I don't care' attitude."
They walked in silence for a few minutes, listening to the cars pass with whooshes of sound, before The Tucker came huffing down the street. "Wait up!" it called.
"Oh, look who finally decided to roll out of bed," The Sam teased as she paused to wait for it to catch up. "We were going to wait for you, but we didn't want the apocalypse happening before we got to school."
He felt a grin grow on his face, although he didn't know who or what The Apocalypse could be. It sounded like something that should be avoided.
The Tucker glared at them. "What's got you two this happy so early?"
"Danny acting weird," The Sam said cheerfully. She rested an arm over his shoulders and started walking towards School. "I was debating between alien abduction and genetically enhanced super virus myself."
He felt the warmth grow on his face again and he shot her a look. "I am not acting weird," he told her.
The Tucker eyed him with an odd expression on its face. "Yeah, you're acting weird." The expression resolved into a secretive smile. "And I think I know why." It laughed softly.
The fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach was something like panic. "You know?" he asked, startled. The half-memories from The Danny's mind of what the humans would do to them if they were discovered flitted through his thoughts.
The Tucker pushed The Sam's arm off his shoulders. She huffed slightly as The Tucker pulled him in conspiratorially. "Oh, don't think I can't guess," it said in an undertone. "And don't think I'll let you live this down."
He licked his lips. "But you will let me live?" he asked, just as quietly.
The Tucker looked past him to where The Sam was walking. "Probably."
He felt his shoulders relax. "And you will keep it a secret?"
"As long as you let me get all the blushy moments on video." It pulled the little device from its pocket it had used the other day to record The Danny's first attempt at flying. "It'll be YouTube gold some day."
"I suppose," he answered slowly, unsure of what a 'blushy moment' was, but willing to fake it until The Danny woke up to tell him.
The Tucker cackled. "It'll be great!" it said, losing the quiet tone and letting him go.
"You two done conspiring?" The Sam muttered darkly. "At this slow pace, we'll all be in detention for being late to school."
Although he didn't see too much wrong with the thought of being late to School, he allowed the two humans to drag him along faster, reaching School just before the bell rang.